Wanderer
by Jack64
Summary: A lone mercenary records his thoughts while on assignment to Titania.


**X-X-X-X**

 **A/N: A bit of a rough day for me today, something I whipped up to try and ease the tension in my mind. Sorry if this isn't the usual Fluffy bits you guys enjoy, but that's on it's way. I just needed to write something to clear these thoughts and emotions from my mind. Hope ya'll enjoy it.**

 **X-X-X-X**

Wanderer

Silence, followed by thundering artillery and small arms in the distance, the cacophony of war, or is it the bothersome noise of my mind? I can hardly tell these days; it all blends together in a symphony of madness and anger conducted by a man called Freud. I feel myself torn in a multitude of directions, a life of combat and hate towards a world that sought to silence me.

Only to find out I was the one silencing them; it isn't the first time I find myself in this state, upon the ashen wastes of a battlefield, the remnants of my mind when all hope is lost and so many things fall apart no matter how hard you try to sew them back together. The beast lashes inside, roaring to break free and defend those that need no defending. It feeds off battle, right or wrong; I give into it without good reason and lash out at those around me only to reign it in after the damage is done.

The world of words can be as vicious as any bullet, a prose as destructive as a bomb. A single phrase spoken in haste or exhaustion can lead to the destruction of friendships in a matter of seconds. It is a lesson I learned the hard way. Be loud enough, you'll get heard, and all the consequences that come with it. Actual War? A war of bullets and bombs, missiles and warships; much easier, no words and no fancy speeches like in the films; kill or be killed. That's all there is to it.

I like war.

It's simple.

It's easy.

There's no emotion to it.

 _That is a lie._

The slicing of bullet into bone and flesh, the exhilaration of success. To know you will survive where others fall… but it comes at a cost. For who is with me to share in that success now? All my fellow mercs are dead or run off by my aggression, my unchecked anger and voice. I am reckless. No one wants to follow a man who can lead only in voice and not in respect. Who ignores his fellows suggestion and thinks he knows all.

My steel toe boots crunch off the blasted sand as I sprint through the deserts of Titania, Andross's forces are here and up above Star Fox reigns supreme as I watch ships and fighters fall by the dozens. They are heroes, to be admired and respected.

I am an insect, to them, I am nothing, to the rest of the system, I am but one life in a war of millions. And I sell that life for the highest bidder.

Perhaps I will write a book about it one day, but, until then, I must succeed and survive. My rifle gripped tightly in hand; I advance to the nearest dune. I am isolated from any support, the main Cornerian force will arrive soon, but the main guns at the base need to be silenced.

And silence them I will.

I charge.

I shoot.

I stab.

I bleed.

My recklessness serves me well in the short term, surprise is a wonderful tool when fighting venomian conscripts. But that's the thing… there's always so damn many of them. Kill one, ten more take its place. Friends make jobs like this easier, people who will support you even in the zaniest of schemes. But those friends are gone.

For what feels like hours my fight drags on as I dodge between prefabbed buildings and spray bullets into the poorly trained conscripts. Grenades soar through the air like candy; behind myself is a trail of death and destruction like those in the skies above.

A satchel charge here, and a satchel charge there. Both anti-orbital guns go up in a brilliant explosion as their cold fusion reactors hit critical mass and expand in a plume of bright blue mushroom clouds. I am of course a good distance away, having absconded through the fence and across the dunes. My job completed, I find a nice bit of high ground and watch down below into the valley as the conscripts clamor to repair the damage done.

It's far too late, already Cornerian drop ships arrive deploying troops by the dozens followed up by drop pods. Arwings and bottlenose fighters swoop in low for strafing runs against ground targets and any airborne threats. It's a show to watch. Corneria knows how to throw a party when they finally get some traction.

With a flick of a lighter I ignite the cigarette in my mouth and rest against the rock behind me. The blend of cherry tobacco hits my taste buds in a rush of flavor and euphoria as the din of battle fades. Whiskers at the end of my elongated snout twitch and ears flip about as I listen to the somber winds of Titantia. My thick red bushy tail with a white dipstick at the end flits about as the planet sings to me of it's lost potential. An entire planet devoid of life from a cosmic chance billions of years ago.

The song goes unheeded by the Cornerians below, enthusiastically patting each other on the back and yelling victory cadence. Big heroes every one of them and standing atop fresh bodies.

They're lucky to have each other, and I only hope they stay that way. Being alone is a terrible feeling. Of course, I'm not completely alone, there's still some folks who I can talk to. But they are busy elsewhere and communication is spotty at best. Good folks the lot of em, even better when I had a direct line to them.

That's just how it is sometimes, you trip over your own damn dick and make a fool of yourself, eventually folks don't want to be around you.

You wander from place to place never really settling down and it's either because your mouth overloads your bird dog ass; or because you're scared that you might say the wrong words and someone wants to shove their mits around your throat.

Such is life, some people wander their entire lives and never find a place where they fit in.

This is the life of a wanderer, but, it always doesn't have to be so. To give up and despair is to be mortal; but stand on your own two feet and cry out that you won't give up, I like to think of it as a sign of strength.

I want to share in my success, to have others at my side to encourage and be encouraged. It will take time, effort of herculean proportions, and in the end I still may not succeed. But, it's the trying that counts.

And gods as my witness, I will try.

 **/Audio Log Ends/**

 **Mercenary ID# 440209**

 **Alias: Jack**

 **Status: Awaiting Next Assignment**


End file.
